


Paint Wars!

by PrinceofFlowers



Series: The Fanfics that Gabo Deserves [3]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Gabo deserves happiness, Gabriel Reyes is the man we all want, Headcanon that he likes art and stuff, Here's some fun stuff to do with ur friends/datemates, Other, Paint Wars, we need some fluff with some sin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-12
Updated: 2016-08-12
Packaged: 2018-08-08 09:11:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7751779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrinceofFlowers/pseuds/PrinceofFlowers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Painting was therapeutic and fun.</p><p>Something that Gabriel Reyes, or Reaper, as he was now called, definately could use.</p><p>Things get a little bit heated during clean up, though.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. All is Fair in Love and War

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so this will be a few chapters long, actually, and will have a sort of sequel as well that's mostly sensual sin.

They enjoyed painting.

For them, it was therapeutic. It was meditation.

They worked with oil paints, primarily. The long dry time and the thickness of the paint allowed something different to their paintings that acrylic and watercolor didn't.

Every Wednesday and Saturday, early in the morning, they would go into the city where their rented studio was, and paint until they ached all over.

Painting was very physical, as well, and they had a tendency to get a little too...spirited in the process.

They had a specific set of clothes they'd wear, in fact, since they had a tendency to get oil paint everywhere, and oil paint does not wash out easily.

This property, along with their enjoyment of painting, is what lead them to their current actions.

They were buying lots of washable paints that you would see in kindergarten classes.

They were buying tarp and large sheets of paper, to cover the walls and floor of a room.

They were buying some cheap, white shirts and shorts in their sizes and his.

They were getting ready for a paint war.

Paint war.

It was something that a friend of theirs had introduced them to, and it was quite enjoyable.

It basically involved splashing or squirting washable paint onto anyone else involved, sometimes tackling and wrestling one another until the paint blended together into a rainbow of laughter and squeals.

It could also mean more intimate things, like soft paint brushes applying cool paint onto another's body.

Of painting pictures on the canvas of your lover's skin.

Hopefully they had enough for both.

Their lover seemed forever in need of both laughter and loving intimacy, and they were more than willing to provide both in whatever way they could.

So once they had everything, they set a room up, and calmly waiting for him to visit them once more.

\--

He was intrigued, to say the least, when his love suggested a bit of painting to him.

He knew they painted, and that they were rather good at it, but he wasn't really familiar with such things.

Sure, he had decent skills in drawing, but he had never really learned to paint, nor did he have much interest in doing so right now.

In the past, when he joined the military, he thought about the distant future, where he was retired comfortably, taking more in-depth art classes because he could, and painting in his leisurely time, because he could, but that was the thoughts of a much younger man.

Nonetheless, his love seemed adamant, and with that familiar mischievous glint in their eyes, he was certain that it wouldn't be the painting they'd normally do.

He was proven right when he was asked to wear the all-white clothing they provided.

With a quick peck to his cheek, they left him to change, telling him to meet them in their spare room.

Intrigued, they did as asked, not expecting a splash of green paint to color his stomach the moment he walked into the room.

Paint wars, they exclaimed.

After all, they didn't tell them what the two would be painting.

He looked down at the green splash on himself, then at them, face unreadable, before he broke out into an evil smirk.

Slowly, he closed the door behind him, waiting for the click to sound his counter-attack.

Within an instant, he had grabbed some red paint, and splattered them with it, their shriek of surprise only making him grin wider as he tried to fully dodge a spray of blue paint they flung at him in response.

After that, it didn't take long for it to become a full-on paint war, both the two and the room covered in a rainbow of colors until the paint they had was spent.

And even then the two had resorted to tackling one another to the tarp-covered floor, rolling around as they tried to smear more paint on the other, laughing and squealing all the while.

Soon, the two were both laying on their backs, panting with a few chuckles and giggles mixed in, trying to catch their breaths.

Soon, the panting died down, and his love rolled over to straddle him, a smile on their lips.

His hands automatically found their way onto their wide hips, and they leaned down to kiss him sweetly, some purple paint on his cheek smearing on their own cheek, and some even ended up on the tip of their nose.

They broke away, to suggest the two make their way to the shower to clean up, eyes dark with lust.

He smirked, and gave their rear a couple of pats, to spur them into getting up, which they did, holding his hand in their own, to lead him to their bathroom.

During this time, he marveled at how much smaller their hand was compared to his.

While his hands were thick, and large, and calloused, their hands were thin, with long, slender fingers made to caress the keys of a piano, or hold a brush.

They were soft, and delicate looking, but still had a firm grip, still strong despite their appearance.

The feeling of this tiny, delicate hand gripping his made his heart feel warm, and he squeezed the hand gently in appreciation.

The two were soon at their destination, his hand and theirs separating so they could both shed their paint-stained clothes and hop into the streams of warm water from the shower head.

He watched as the paint ran in rivulets off of their bodies.

Of how the water and paint flowed off their curves, how own mouth curving upward at the sight.

He watched as the colors flowed down the drain.

Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, purple, brown, and black...

And with a wicked grin, he gripped his lover's hips and pulled them flush against his body.

"You know which color I haven't painted you with today?"

They seemed to catch on to what he was suggesting with his sinfully husky voice low with lust.

Still they asked, a sly smirk on their face as they ran their hands over his chest.

"What?"

"White."


	2. Making Messes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get steamy in the shower, and then to the bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha, I haven't written smut in forever and I didn't really read this over so I'm sorry.

They giggled, not only at his answer, but at the tickling of his beard against their skin as he kissed their neck.

Their giggles morphed into hums of approval and soon breathy gasps of pleasure as his hands went to work, cupping and squeezing and stroking them.

A thick finger made its way inside of them, and pumped in slowly before another joined in, now scissoring them.

They weren't one to just stand around and let him do all the work, though, and they let one of their hands snake in between the two to grasp at his thick cock.

They purred over how he was hard for them already, giving him a few strokes.

Their fingers couldn't even touch when wrapped around him, he was so thick.

They thumbed his tip, before shooing his hands from them, having him remove his fingers.

He was a bit confused, but complied, looking down curiously at his lover, who only grinned up at him like the cat who swallowed the canary.

Oh, they'd swallow something, all right.

They knelt down before him, his cock still heavy in their hand, and he knew.

With a giggle, they opened their mouth to flick their pink tongue over his tip, their mouth curving upwards as he let out a groan.

They gave him a few more teasing licks, before his hand buried itself into their hair and gave them a light tug as if to spur them into action.

They complied, opening up and swallowing the head of his dick, sucking as one hand pumped his shaft, the other cradling his balls and squeezing them every now and then.

Slowly, they took in more of him, until their nose brushed up against his pubic hair, their eyes looking up at him as if to spur him into action.

Their hands had made their way to his ass, and gripped it firmly, appreciatively.

Both his thighs and ass were fantastic, and they'd have to lather them with attention later, but for now, they'd let him fuck their mouth.

He started off slowly, rocking his hips, head thrown back as he moaned from the feeling.

But as the pleasure began to build, he sped up the pace, plunging into them faster and faster, deeper until they were deep throating him.

Part of him was impressed by their apparent lack of a gag reflex, but he was mostly turned on by the sight of them taking him so well.

They hummed, the vibrations making him curse and quicken his thrusts.

Fuck, he was close.

He could cum in their mouth, and they'd swallow it all easily with no complaints- they enjoyed his taste.

But he did mention painting them white.

So before he came, he pulled out, and stroked himself until he came with a groan, spurts of white painting their face and chest.

He panted for a moment, before helping them to their feet, the water of the shower already rinsing off his cum.

It had also started to go lukewarm, so after the two washed off any remaining paint, they turned the water off, looking to carry on elsewhere.

He was eager to get to their bed soon, not caring that they both were still dripping with water, but his love would not hear of it until they both dried off.

The two still had damp hair, but were satisfied with that, and left the steamy bathroom to the bedroom.

On the way, he kissed them, one hand tangled in their hair as he deeper it, his tongue tangling with theirs in a frenzy most would try to romanticize as a dance, when it was so much more messy, teeth sometimes colliding into lips, saliva mixing, some of it trickling down lips or corners of mouths.

Making out was messy.

Sex was messy.

But neither of them particularly cared.

They made a colorful mess in one room, made a mess on the way to the bathroom, made a mess of the bathroom when trying to get cleaned up.

And now they were going to make a mess of the bedroom.

The two were locked together still as they made their way to the bed, only breaking to settle themselves onto it.

The two locked lips once more, before he decide to make his way down, eager to eat them out.

He left open kisses all the way down, until he was between their legs, his hands spreading them wide open for him to see.

He gave himself a moment to appreciate the view before having his wicked way with them, sucking and lapping at them until they couldn't hold their voice, and moaned out loud.

They were always rather quiet, usually only gasping silently in pleasure, making him work to hear them moan or cry out.

It always made him feel so accomplished when he'd hear them get vocal, and he worked them harder to hear them sing for him.

He added his fingers, stretching them out as he scissored them.

They always needed prep to take him in, so he always made sure to do a thorough job during foreplay, lubing up his fingers to make them nice and slick.

Sometimes he'd watch them prepare themselves instead, but not now.

No, he wanted them to quiver under him, both for himself, and for their own pleasure.

They seemed ready, so he spread some lube onto his cock, before thrusting in, groaning at the feeling of being inside of them.

He didn't even start at a slow pace; they were already ready for him, so there was no need.

Instead, he thrust into them fast and hard, his hands gripping their hips as he fucked them into their mattress, the force making the bed rock and the headboard hit the wall with each thrust.

He pleaded for them to scream his name, breathy Spanish in their ear as they held him close.

They were close.

So close.

He picked up the pace just enough to send them over the edge, his name on their lips as they came, eyes wide with tears forming at the corner from the intensity, their body trembling as they tightened and convulsed around him.

And as they came, so did he, movements stilling as the two were locked together.

The two relaxed as their climax ended, their bodies still trembling and boneless.

He pulled out after a few breaths, and let himself rest on them, head against their chest.

They weaved shaking fingers into his peppered curls, stroking his hair lovingly.

The two laid like that, catching their breaths, before they shifted to a more comfortable position and threw a blanket over their bodies, eyes heavy.

The two held each other close as they dozed off to sleep, tired smiles on both of their faces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is the last, and is filled with tooth-rotting fluff.


	3. Home and Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post Paint War cleanup, ft. breakfast after waking up from some awesome sex.
> 
> Take note, cause you need a man who can do both.

He woke up before them, before the sun rose, and he watched them for a bit as they slept, fond smile on his scarred face.

His love was so lovely, and sweet, having had set something up for the two of them to enjoy.

But, that did leave a massive mess to clean up, which they probably planned on cleaning up later.

However, he had other plans.

Carefully, so as to not disturb them, he separated himself from their embrace.

He padded over silently to the dresser, grabbed some clothes, and padded off to the bathroom for a quick shower.

He got clean, got dry, and got dressed before cleaning up the mess from the paint covered clothing in the bathroom.

Dirty clothes were brought to the washer machine in the laundry room, and as they were washed, he mopped up the dried paint trail that came from the paint war zone to the bathroom.

Afterwards, he grabbed some trash bags, rolled up the paint-covered tarp, and began picking up the empty paint bottles and tearing down the splattered paper on the walls, stuffing them into the trash bag.

He then tossed the bags into the trash bin, which would be rolled to the curve tomorrow for trash pick up, and placed the rolled up tarp into the garage.

No doubt that his love would bring it to their studio come Saturday.

Now, with all the cleaning done with time to spare, he was he'd his hands and set to making them breakfast.

Specifically their favorite breakfast.

They had a waffle maker in their kitchen that made waffles the size of a dinner plate, and they loved eating one of these massive pancakes covered with powdered sugar, chocolate syrup, topped with fresh strawberries and blueberries, with candied lilac petals decorating the sides.

So he got to work, having memorized where they keep everything, what with how often he would be around.

Soon, the smells of waffles filled the house, stirring the owner of the home from their slumber.

They took notice of the man missing from their bed, of the paint missing from the floors, of the paint-stained clothes missing from the bathroom, and smiled.

They showered and dressed quickly, before padding their way down to the kitchen and dining room.

They peaked into the room they used for the paint war, on their way to the kitchen, noting that it had been cleaned already, and continued on ward, still smiling.

And then, once they reached the kitchen, they were greeted by the sight of their love, wearing one of their aprons and busily preparing their favorite breakfast.

Their smile only widened as they continued forward to hug him from behind, pecking his cheek and whispering their thanks into his ear.

He turned around to embrace them properly, holding them close and kissing them before explaining that it was no trouble, and that it was the least he could do to show his appreciation.

Breakfast was ready soon, and the two ate together, occasionally feeding one another bites of their own breakfast.

Their home and heart warmed by their shared time and feelings.

The two happy in their blissful morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel Reyes is the man we all want.
> 
> A man who can fuck you to sleep, clean your house, and make you breakfast afterwards.
> 
> Hope you all enjoyed my silly nonsense.

**Author's Note:**

> nEXT CHAPTER THEY GONNA FUCK
> 
> CAUSE ART MAKES THEM BOTH HOT
> 
> Don't kinkshame.


End file.
